


Hope-dealer

by TexasDreamer01



Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: Benevolent Rulers, Boss Padme, F/M, Jedi Culture, Naboo Culture, Politics, Pre-Relationship, Protective Padme, Secret Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-20 14:40:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16139354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TexasDreamer01/pseuds/TexasDreamer01
Summary: Queen Amidala finds that the lightest burdens are those which nurture new beginnings - an effective antidote to the fear caused by the recent upheavals to the Naboo and Jedi alike. Even if only in the smallest of steps.





	Hope-dealer

**Author's Note:**

  * For [riselioness](https://archiveofourown.org/users/riselioness/gifts).



The meeting ended on a sober tone, everyone’s shoulders stiff with the burden of this new problem. Jedi began to file out first, the elderly Grandmaster leading the way with his hobbled step. His meandering pace seemed to dictate everyone else’s, a slow shuffle out the door that seemed rather funereal. Queen Amidala hid a frown, wondering if this interpretation of wizened grace was purposeful in its influence.

Discussing the situation brought to the fore by Master Jinn’s death was as exhausting as dealing with the Trade Federation’s demands. Were it not for the earnest and grave tones of Master Windu, as well as the stoic presence of Padawan- _Knight_ Kenobi sat in one of the lonelier corners of the room, she would have been heartily tempted to order the entire lot out. And to toss Master Yoda’s cane out of the only opened window; if she were honest with herself, as she tried so constantly to be, this negotiation of security protocols would have gone more smoothly if no one needed to bear the sound of an emphatically tapped cane or how it was used to punctuate edicts as stated by Master Yoda.

It was the sympathetic, discreet glances flicked her way by Windu and Kenobi whenever Amidala’s temper began to rise at the Grandmaster’s contributions that helped to temper her tone into something more suitable to the negotiation. Master Windu’s timely interruptions with suggestions were also facilitatory, their reasonability and reassuring experience something she appreciated. The dynamics of the Jedi were an intriguing peek into the machinations of the mysterious Order – her political training for queenship covered many topics in broad strokes, but these were intimate details a mere series of lectures and briefings could never have prepared her for. Master Jinn’s death was, inversely, one of the most useful things he had done this entire invasion.

Kenobi lingered, caught up in light conversation with one of her handmaidens. Not Sabé, for she had volunteered to care for the young Anakin while the meeting with the Jedi was taking place, but Saché, her naturally somber countenance one of attentiveness as they chatted. The handmaiden was doing well, given the fear she needed to face while staying behind on Naboo during the invasion. It seemed that Kenobi’s engagement with her had settled many of the anxieties that had clung like gossamer about her handmaiden. Shared experiences, she supposed, or perhaps the budding rumor among the royal household of Kenobi’s compassion was the cause.

Nevertheless, Amidala rose from her seat, a cue that both took to be the end of their discussion. A brief nod to Saché sent the handmaiden on her way, the soft swishing of robes covering the nearly-silent step of the Jedi, and she took the opportunity to call out, “Knight Kenobi.”

“Your Highness?”

Amidala appreciated the way his steps paused with nary a stutter, the polite turn to her direction that spoke subtly of his mastery over the martial arts. Absently, she noted that he betrayed no hint of his injuries sustained during the fight with their unfathomable Sith, nor of the uncomfortable swaddling of bandages that the royal physicians had insisted upon. Were it not for the slight shadows hiding under his eyes, accompanied by newborn furrows of grief etching themselves upon his face, Kenobi would look the picture of detached Jedi serenity – untouchable by mortal concerns.

She almost envied him.

Instead, she opportuned herself a steadying inhale, engrained habit reminding her to keep her fingers casually, confidently still. Kenobi stood at easy attention, awaiting whatever verdict, edict, or decree would spill forth from her red-slashed lips. Courage required only initiative, and so Amidala stiffened her heart before striding into this unknown battlefield.

"You are fond of her."

He was silent, the moment dense with unspoken emotion. Then- "I am a Jedi."

Amidala stared at him. The confession held a broken, poorly-healed note to it, for all that the sentence was smooth as a well-trod road. It was a sentiment she understood, though likely not to the depth that Kenobi did. With the embers of his master's corpse cooling nearby and the sun rosy in its morning ascendance, the weight of their recent meeting with Masters Windu and Yoda weighed heavily between them, Sabé's interactions adding only a new dimension of stress to the nascent, personal relationship between the Jedi Order and the Naboo palace.

She pursed her lips, watching the sun climb ever-skyward, as it had done since Naboo's inception. "And she is a handmaiden."

The solemnity of Kenobi's nod was absent and resigned; the matter must have already been contended with and set aside. For a moment, Amidala admired his dedication to duty, the costs he was willing to pay in order to see justice and peace through. An admirable trait, and yet one that granted her a fleeting moment of despair – one such as he should not be burdened with excellence at the price of personal happiness. He had accomplished so much for Naboo, had stood unwaveringly in defense of her people, and done so with grace and compassion. That he should lose not only his master but also a companion borne through the shared perils of Naboo's invasion seemed... unfair.

Kenobi had been waiting at attention for her gaze to tick back in his direction, the tired bent to his stance exuding an air of professionalism, if not the trademark serenity that all Jedi seemed to bear. The sight only cemented her resolve. Amidala straightened despite her weariness and heavy, celebratory robes, letting the facepaint remind her to smooth her features to the still waters of Naboo's most turbulent rivers.

"Sabé is not easily impressed," She began, enjoying how the non-sequitur startled the man in front of her. _Still waters, still waters_ , as a fragile thread of hope began to appear on his face, a light beginning to rekindle in his dulled, grief-struck eyes, "Nor is she tolerant of those who would easily abandon their vows, for she holds hers so dearly."

His own features wavered, but Amidala continued undeterred, "And yet, the duties of a handmaiden are light, outside of circumstances such as these. We will be requiring someone from the palace to help continue the investigation of the Trade Federation's invasion, to aid the Jedi in their search for more information. Sabé has been elected to conduct the Naboo side, with Eirtaé accompanying the Jedi to Coruscant. There will be need for frequent communication between the handmaidens and the Jedi to better coordinate our next moves and what communiqués both sides will publish.

"As one of the two Jedi assigned to Naboo during our invasion, your expertise in the recent events is critical to defining research parameters on the Jedi side." She paused, observing how Kenobi analyzed her words in an attempt to discern the direction of their conversation. It was a satisfying moment to watch the realization bloom in his eyes, in the disbelieving stiffening of his shoulders, "Master Windu has assured us that as representative of the Jedi during this investigation, priority will be given to the exchange of data between you and the handmaidens in order to most efficiently coordinate matters, and due to the concerns at present, new communicators will be assigned to everyone involved."

Kenobi was polite enough not to gape, but it was a near thing. It was refreshing to see, if she were honest with herself, and pressed her lips together to hide a budding smile – if she were lucky, the Jedi was off-footed enough to mistake her expression for stern severity.

"I trust this is an adequate arrangement?"

He nodded, the motion jerky with surprise, then after a pause where he seemed to realize the blunder of his immediate reaction, collected himself with a smooth bow, "Yes, Your Highness."

There was a quick rap at the door, alerting Amidala to the dwindling time. It was an adequate end to the conversation, and with a quick glance between them, she and Kenobi collected themselves to exit the room.

A thought occurred to her as she watched Kenobi automatically put himself between her and the door, body language revealing nothing more than a trained protectiveness so reminiscent of her handmaidens, "Knight Kenobi."

"Yes, Your Highness?"

Amidala finally let a smile touch her lips, edged with a bit more tooth than was strictly friendly, "It is the most interesting thing about Naboo – there are waters so deep and unexplored that even the Gungans daren't venture."

And, oh, Sabé was quite right, Kenobi _was_ clever, for her message was received with a wry smile and purposeful nod of his head, "I believe there are few places you would dare not venture, Your Highness."

There was another brief knock, and Kenobi summarily opened the door to the surprised face of one of the palace aides. He gave them an apologetic smile, and Amidala's own softened as they stood aside for her to walk past. One of her other handmaidens were waiting down the corridor, conversing with her governor and consulting a datapad – it was busy, but with an air of conviviality to it. "Indeed, Knight Kenobi."

**Author's Note:**

> "A leader is a dealer in hope."  
> \- Napoleon I of France, Napoleon : In His Own Words (1916), Ch. V : Concerning the Fine Arts


End file.
